Good Ol' Moon
by wynnie the pooh
Summary: Everyone sympathizes with the moon...  Inspired by Darren's song with the above title.


**Just a little one-shot, most definitely inspired by the loving Darren Criss and his song Good Ol' Moon. If you haven't heard it, I urge you to find his myspace and listen to it, or look it up on youtube! It's such an amazing song, I love it to pieces. I love _him _to pieces, too, but never mind that! I hope you all like this. In my mind, it was first set in the present, but then it somehow changed to the future, but it imagine it wherever you like. There's no real defining information for a time frame. Just lovely, adorable fluff! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And for those who are waiting for a new chapter of Background Music, feel free to send me an inspiring private message, because I'm having trouble coming up with where exactly I'm going to take it next... I know where I want to end up, but I'm not sure how to quite get it there yet, so inspiration is welcome! **

**See you at the end!**

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><p><strong><em><span>Good Ol' Moon<span>_**

Kurt was like the sun. Blaine had always insisted it was so. He lit up the world, brightening everyone's day and making people smile, even though every day it weighed on his mind that all he really was was a dying star and someday his brightness would fade.

But Blaine was the moon, glowing pale and silvery in the dark night sky. A night owl, a cool comfort, and most importantly of all - for Blaine at least - he took his light from the sun. Without Kurt, Blaine felt he would be dark and cold. His smiles couldn't shine so brightly without his there, without Kurt's insatiable happiness to power him.

Kurt was a morning person. It was a fact that anyone that knew him well understood. Mornings and Kurt were like tea and scones: they got on so well together, but they were always a little posh at the same time. He could jump out of bed without a second thought to the comfort of his pillow and get straight into his day.

Blaine, on the other hand, was _not _a morning person. He had five alarms set on his phone so he could repeatedly press the snooze button, and the only thing that could persuade him to get out of bed was a hot cup of coffee or the promise of Kurt's kisses. He'd much rather stay up late at night, whispering gentle words of comfort or playing rough songs on his guitar.

'What are you thinking about?' Kurt asked him as he glanced at the clock, and Blaine knew the time was on his mind - when was it suitable to go to bed, what time did he have to leave in time to finish his facial routine and still get a solid eight hours of sleep?

But instead of replying, Blaine shrugged, letting his fingers settle in the gaps between Kurt's. They sat so comfortably, side by side, tanned skin against pale.

'You always get that pensive look, Blaine, like your mulling the world over. I swear some day you'll come out with some fantastic philosophy with a whole new look at the world.' He smiled. 'Maybe I'll understand your mind a little better then.'

Blaine grinned and shook his head. 'My mind's pretty simple.'

'Oh yeah?' But Kurt was running his foot absently along Blaine's calf comfortingly. 'There's not some kind of Da Vinci thing going on up there?'

'No,' Blaine breathed lightly, leaning into his boyfriend's shoulder. 'There's only one thing I think about when I have this face.'

'Oh? And what is that?'

Blaine nudged him lightly in the side with their joined hands. '_You, _silly!'

Kurt snorted. '_I'm _what causes your mastermind face?'

'Well, there's a lot to think about.'

The pale face shined with a smile that spoke of the joy of being appreciated, of feeling loved. Blaine returned it without hesitation.

'I don't think you're being truthful with me,' Kurt said finally, after a pause.

And Blaine's jaw threatened to drop an inch but instead he shook his head adamantly. 'I mean every word.'

His boyfriend's eyes were thinking up a challenge, he could tell. There was a glint there, and suddenly he was pressing their joined hands against Blaine's chest in a form of a nudge. 'Okay, then. Prove it, Mister Assuredness. What is there to think about?'

Blaine looked at him, judging the situation, wondering what to reveal and what to leave close to his heart. And then he settled. Everything. Kurt had his heart anyway.

'Sometimes,' he whispered, 'I wonder how you manage to stay afloat when the world goes against you all the time. I worry that one day, its going to all get to you and then you'll push me away so you don't have to worry about the pressure of _us _anymore.'

Kurt goes to argue, but he holds up a finger, silencing him. 'And then I think about what it would be like for me if you weren't here. I'm not a strong person, Kurt, not really, but I take my strength from you. What would I do if you weren't here?'

'I'm always going to be here,' Kurt whispered in return.

'I know, but I worry, a lot more than I should. People always tell us we're the same, but we're not. You're a ray of hope that can survive all on its own. You're the sun, Kurt, shining high in the sky for little rocks of meteorite like me, who can glow only because of you.'

There is another shake of that alabaster face and then Blaine leaned forward, so close that their faces were mere inches from each other. 'I'm not joking, Kurt.' And he pressed their lips together in a quick kiss, leaning back against the chair just as suddenly as he had leaned forward.

'You think about this often?' Kurt asked.

'All the time. I try not to, but then it invades my mind when I'm not thinking about anything else. I never want to be without you.'

There was another pause and then, 'I never want to live without you either.'

They were both still young; tiny lives in the spectrum of things, like specks of dust that floated as part of the larger cloud. But in those two shared thoughts was the promise of something larger, something that both hoped would never end.

'I have something to show you.' The whisper came from Kurt's lips and he slipped away, sliding off the couch and letting their twined fingers separate last. He crossed the dark room to the window, pulling the curtain aside and letting a single beam of bright white moonlight fall across the carpet and Blaine's face, whose eyebrows were crumpled with curiosity.

'What are you doing?' he asked.

Kurt only laughed. 'You've gotta get the ambience right for this kind of things,' he said. From the bottom of drawer of the desk beneath the window he pulled a box; it was the kind you would get from the home deco store, which screamed mass-production, but its cardboard surface was fading and torn at the edges and Blaine knew that it had been opened many times, although he himself had never seen it.

'What is it?' he whispered.

Kurt brought it over to him, lifting the lid and revealing, nestled in a layer of pale tissue paper, a heavy, leather-bound book. It was stained a dark mahogany red, and its corners too, were faded with use.

'You can pull it out, Blaine,' Kurt whispered, and Blaine reached out with shaking fingers. The book felt too personal, too wrong for him to hold in his hands.

He opened the cover, turning to the first page where large curlicue letters spelled out: _My Diary. _

'I was never one for writing down my travels,' Kurt explained. 'I'd rather remember in pictures than words.'

Blaine turned the page and the true meaning of Kurt's words became clear. Because the double-spread was filled with photographs. The book was a beautifully decorated scrapbook, this first page filled with pictures of Kurt's parents when they were younger, arms around each other and smiling as if they had the whole world ahead of them.

'I know this isn't exactly my memory, but I wanted to include it. There were so many pictures, and I couldn't bear not to include them.' He reached for the pages, his fingers closing easily around a well worn page. 'This is where you should really start though,' he murmured, and turned the page.

It stared out at Blaine, his face in bright colours, larger than anything else on the page. From around him, bright strips of yellow and red paper glowed, and beneath him, in letters made from newspaper clippings, the words _The Sun._ In the corner of the page, smaller and much less noticeable, but which drew Blaine's eyes quickly it to it was Kurt's own face, smiling in the direction of his own. Beneath it read _The Moon._

Blaine smiled, looking up at him, not hiding the incredulity on his face.

'I had the same idea,' was his reply, and then he was pulling the book carefully from Blaine's grasp and placing it with gentle fingers beside them before leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together.

'I think it's a human trait,' he whispered, and Blaine could feel the movement of his lips only inches away from his own. 'To sympathize with the moon.'

**Thanks for coming and enjoying this (if you did so, of course). And by the way, I'm watching Darren's North Halsted Market Days concert right now, and you should also check that out if you weren't there like me and haven't seen it yet! :D I definitely wish he would come to Australia! I'd fly anywhere in the country to see him! :D And it's not a small country or anything :P**

**I love you all! You (and Darren) are my daily inspiration! **

**xxxx**

**Wynnie**


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